Nightfall
by Edward'sBringingSexyBack
Summary: Threequel to Moonrise:: 'You can get out,' she was saying. 'You can get outside information. We can’t. I can’t. If I’m ever going to be able to find the secret to actually enjoying enternal life, I need you.'
1. Say It Again

Nightfall

_**Nightfall**_

_Chapter 1: Say it Again_

**Say it Again—Marie Digby**

**I'd like to state again that THIS IS A THREEQUEL. Haha. That means, if you're new, Go back and read Moonrise, then Sunrise, and then you can come read this. **

**And I'd like to say, Welcome Back!! to all of my loyal readers and reviewers. I'm sorry it took me so long to write this, so I'll try and be better about that for now on. I was just going through a really long slump.**

**This story's plot is not set in stone at the moment, so I have no idea if it will be longer then Sunrise or not. Please leave your feedback, not because I'm a review whore, but because I would HONESTLY like to know what you'd like to see within this story. **

**So, for future reference, I am not Stephenie Meyer. I can't be, because then I would worship myself, be mad at myself for making Jacob kiss Bella, and I'd be married, so Edward would be off limits. : (**

**OOO**

I was in a beautiful meadow. Flowers of purple, red, and gold swayed in the slight breeze, which ruffled my hair. The warm sun beat down on my back as I fell into the sea of flowers, and I inhaled their rich sent. My cheeks warmed against the grass, my eyelids fluttering closed. I smiled, soaking in the sunlight, which had risen in me so long ago. And then, I reached to pluck a flower from the soil. The purple and gold—such like a sunset—was dancing, twirling wildly. I brought it to my nose and drew in the strange, exotic sent.

And suddenly, the blue in the world disappeared, and the sky ripped open. A cascade of water fell upon me, and the flowers shriveled, wilted, and I shielded my eyes against the downpour. I looked up and noticed stars just beyond the atmosphere, and I realized that maybe the sun had set.

The sky roared, and I winced, drawing my hands away from my eyes to cover my ears. Hair plastered itself to my neck, my cheeks. I felt cold size me to the bone. My clothing clung to my skin, and I felt uncharacteristically exposed. I wrenched my eyes shut against the torrent of ice, huddling into myself.

I used to like the rain, I remembered. But not when it looked ready to kill me.

Fire ripped down to the earth, creating strange, eccentric shadows and images that did not belong in such a place of beauty. I whimpered at skeletal trees loomed over me, as a flame erupted in the center of the clearing. I watched in horror as it engulfed the grass, the fire casting odd, forbidden glows on my skin. My eyes trained on the flower—the one I'd been holding—as the fire inched toward it. The flame turned it orange, a demonic color mixed with the beautiful gorgeous purple and gold. "No!" I shouted as the fire devoured it, left no trace…

I screamed as I was shaken awake. Matt leaned back, startled. I realized I was shaking, and wrapped the covers around me to stop it. I watched Matt—my lover—as he watched me. Neither of us showed any emotion, a thing we were getting quite good at in front of certain roommates.

I lived with the most powerful coven on the planet, and that wasn't a huge comfort in some areas. Aro was like a vampire king, and his assistant, Jane, was all too eager to help. Her powers scared me, as well as the rest of the Brady Bunch. Caius and Demetri and Marcus were only three others, whose powers I didn't care to delve into. And then there was Alec, and the rest of the whole damn guard to worry about, which included Matt.

Or "Matthias" as _they_ called him.

Needless to say, I preferred Matt. I think he did, too.

Now we just stared at each other, and Matt gave up the mask. It was January, and the breeze came in through the window, ruffling his brown hair. Concern made a new appearance, and he stroked my cheek. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I lied.

He frowned. "Are you quite sure?"

"It was just a dream, Matt." I scowled at the blanket, ashamed of my weakness. "If I was running around naked or something, _then_ you could worry about my sanity."

His brows rose mischievously, but he only said, "I don't think I would mind, so much."

"You would if I was prancing in front of the rest of the guard, dear," I replied casually, trying to keep the smile off my lips. I caught his eyes narrow in my peripheral vision. Oh, how I loved taunting him so.

"Liar."

I smiled again, running a hand through my hair. "You caught me," I whispered, not at all meaning for the seductive tone to overpower my voice—I swear. But his expression became dark, hungry. He pushed me back, his lips forcing their way to mine, and I tensed underneath the sudden action.

His hand ran down my side, bringing my leg up against his hip. This was a familiar process. It had happened… Oh, I lost count of all the times between last night and early morning, before I phased and slept. Being away from someone for a year, someone you deeply feel a desire to be with, can do that. He teased my lips with his tongue, and I gasped loudly, trying to recall what time it was. The sun looked to be setting, and it reminded me of my dream.

Matt must have realized I wasn't responding, and he pulled away, quirking a brow at my antics. I didn't want him to feel neglected, so I leapt forward and pushed him to the bed. We were modestly clothed—or, modest as two could get in a closed off room. I was in his shirt, and he had his boxers on. Modest.

His hand inched up my shirt as it had so many times before. I kissed him again as he reached his destination, and our lips moved against each other like cool water, flowing into itself. My back arched and I stretched, moving against him like a cat. He growled and flipped us, his hand on the hem of my shirt, about to take it off.

A door opened, and we both froze, glancing at the door. A girl, maybe fifteen in the eternal sense, stood in the doorway, eyes wide. She had red ones, and a smoky cape drifted around her ankles. I rarely saw vampires surprised, but this girl looked as if she'd never expected—or wanted—to see any form of sex in her entire life. Or what happened before it. Her red orbs took in the seen embarrassingly slow for a vampire, and she blinked rapidly, her gaze going from my face, and then to Matt's.

My gaze went to Matt's, too. His eyes were hard, his face stony. He glared at the intruder with enough annoyance to send any mortal running. But the girl was no mortal, and only held her hand in front of her face to block out the scene, sighing under her breath.

"Is there something you want, Aida?" Matt demanded. The name was Latin. I'd seen it in his book.

The girl smirked, and I could barely see her eyes roll. The tension in the room crackled, sparking between the two guards with a vengeance. They had a past, I knew, but what, I wasn't sure. My eyes darted in between them as Matt and I stood. He'd crossed his arms, trying to rein his temper. Aida lowered her hand, grimacing at me. "Sorry about this," she said in mainly my direction. "I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head mutely, my gaze still darting between them. Aida noticed my discomfort and redirected her voice to Matt. "Sorry, dear brother. Didn't mean to interfere. Do carry on."

She turned to leave, a smile playing at her lips, and I suddenly found my voice. "_Brother_?" I asked Matt, trying not to sound to surprised.

He grimaced as the girl turned around, a too-innocent expression on her face. His expression melted into a glare, and her mask vanished in earnest as she met his gaze equally.

They did look a lot alike, I noticed now. They had the same hair color—dark, chestnut-like brown. The same eye shape, too, except Aida's were surprisingly larger. I began to notice subtle differences, probably eroded by perfection. Her lips were full while his were not. Her mouth turned upwards into an amused smile while his was molded down into a frown. She was all grace and beauty, Matt power and refinement. Aida looked from me to Matt, and I realized I had indeed seen her before, during the year I was here as Matt's slave.

"Is this _the_ Cara? You remember, the one you never wanted me to talk to?" she asked, frowning. I caught a wink directed at me, and smiled as Matt's temper flared.

"Did you ever suppose there was a _reason_ I didn't want you toying with her?"

The charm and laughter disappeared from her tone. "I don't _toy_."

"Not usually," he amended dryly. Aida scowled.

Something in my mind was clicking. It started off slow, but then it went full throttle. My mind recalled _another_ sibling of Matt's, one who nearly destroyed me. If Aida was Matt's _sister_, and Lucas his brother, and they were all around the right age for sibling to be birthed apart in their time period, then that meant they had to be changed around the same time. My mind was so close to having the answer when Matt spoke, his voice angry.

"What is it, Aida?"

She frowned, twirling a long braid in her fingers. "Does a sister have to have a reason to pay a visit to her brother?" she asked innocently. Matt scowled.

"Aida…" His voice was a sheer warning, and her head snapped up, momentarily frightened. Or so I thought.

In a moment the bored expression was back, and she rolled her eyes. "Your shift starts soon, dunce. Besides, I thought you might like to know Aro wants to talk to you. Or he could just come in here, of course, but I thought it would be better if you were decent." She closed her eyes in mock exhaustion. "My brother about to have sex with someone is not something I have ever had on my list of things to see."

Matt was unbothered by the comment. "Did Aro say what it was about?"

"I'd say…" Aida trailed off, glancing at me pointedly. Matt didn't reply, so she jerked her head at me. He still made no move. I was practically positive he understood, but he noticed how hurt I was by the fact that he still seemed to have secrets… not that I didn't. "It has to do with her," Aida sighed at last, shooting me an apologetic look.

Matt nodded. "Do you want to go?" he asked me.

"Are you kidding?"

"Stay here, then." He shrugged on his usual attire in a matter of seconds, and Aida looked away, a sick expression on her divine face. When Matt reached the door, he turned to me, seemed to remember I was alone, and glanced at Aida. She seemed to be very interested in the fruit dish across the room, suddenly, and Matt sighed loudly.

"Oh, dear God, _what_?" Aida queried at last. Playing with a free strand of hair.

"Watch her for me?"

"Are you kidding?" I repeated, this time with anger. Matt shot me a helpless look, and I felt a frown mold onto my face. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," replied Matt tensely. I turned, my pride wounded. Aida watched this scene silently, and then Matt was gone, the door shutting with a soft click.

"Oh, brotherly love," Aida sighed, steering clear of the bed. She sank into a chair, watching me. "He just worries, you know."

"You sound like my mother."

She shrugged. "Don't be mad with him. I'm the one who's made him so careless." Aida may have enjoyed annoying Matt to death, but she didn't want his lover upset with him. She covered the desperation in her tone carefully, her eyes keen with interest.

"How come I've never learned of you?" I snapped suddenly. "He didn't tell me about your other brother either."

Aida visibly winced. "Ugh. I heard about that."

"Glad to be the gossip of Italy." I turned to the mirror. I didn't know why I was upset in the least. Matt had obviously hadn't been ready to share his past yet. How was that a big surprise? But, then again, his past was also his present, and likely, in one case, his future.

_Calm down_, I told myself. _If Jasper were here, he'd be reprimanding you about controlling your emotions in his presence. Your _girly_ emotions._

And I did. When I turned back to Aida, she was still watching me with expressive eyes, confused at my sudden change in mood. "I feel the need to apologize," she confided, tapping her chin with a slender finger.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Our… family is a bit… how do I put this delicately?" She made a face. "Screwed."

"Extremely delicate."

She grimaced. "He just didn't want you to freak out when you learned about us. He didn't want me making impressions on you, whatever _that_ means." She shrugged, the long braid plaited with jewels glimmering in the lamplight.

"Jeez, that reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

"Do you remember an apparently emo guy who was set on killing himself?"

Her eyes went wide. "_Edward Cullen_?" she gasped. Then, "He's emo?"

"No. He's my father."

She blinked. "Luck to you, girlie."

I smiled in spite of myself, and Aida smiled back. "Mind telling me how come every kid in your family got turned into a vampire?"

Her smile faded. "Maybe another time."

"What other time is there?"

Her eyes lost their luster. "I'm positive I'll see you again soon. Please do not make the mistake of pushing your luck, _Beloved_." My name meaning. I blinked at her, and she grinned without humor. "Don't you think it's ironic that I'm supposed to be helpful?"

"What do you mean?"

Her brow knitted. "Aida, you know—_aid_? Means helpful. I think my parents made a mistake."

Mistake? Maybe. But so far, she was being pretty helpful. She was making me forget at why I felt bad, and that was helping. I didn't even notice that the sound of moving paper was happening until I looked to where she was suddenly standing. Over my duffle. I frowned, crossing my arms, as she lifted up a folded piece of paper. I had no clue what it was, but I felt obligated to say, "Hey—that's private!" anyway. Aida ignored me, unfolding the paper and staring at it.

From where I was standing, I could barely make out the photograph. It was in sepia tone, and I remembered it was the one Lucas had shown me in the prison. I was motionless as Aida traced the rim with gentle fingers. "I remember taking this."

"What?"

She glanced back at me. "I remember taking this picture," she repeated, holding it up to the light. "You guys needed someone to operate the camera."

I didn't say anything. She sounded a little sad.

"I wonder why I wasn't more a part of his life. Ever since I've been turned, he's always…" She broke off, dropping the picture back into the duffle bag.

"Always what?"

"Nothing," she said at once. "Never mind. Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta go. Someone's got to make sure the festival doesn't get out of hand for the drunkards."

"I'm sorry?"

She looked _fidgety_. I mean, twitch-like. She was restless, and I had the impression that there was no festival. "You can take care of yourself, right?" she asked me, hand on the doorknob. I nodded slowly, still unsure with her sudden change in mood. "Um, okay, then. I'll catch you later."

"Bye," I called out, but she was already out the door.

I stepped out onto the small balcony, watching the sun set into the trees. My skin sparkled, and my eyes took in every detail. I watch as some of the guard left the castle grounds, and as others sparred in the field. I watched as the townsfolk bustled by, some yelling at each other in random Italian. There were buses on the streets and business men buying ice-cream for their daughters, but just as I suspected: No festival.

I stood there until the moon began to lift into the sky, and the streets began to grow quiet and the lights went out in homes one by one. My eyes trained on the square, and then below me, back to the castle courtyard. I saw a small vampire leap onto a fountain, and walk the rim. The moonlight glinted off a line of jewels in a dark russet braid.

Aida.

I wasn't one to reserve judgment for people—I just wanted to know what I was up against—and I wasn't about to do so for Matt's sister. I watched as she flipped a gold coin into the fountain, thought better of it, and retrieved it. She seemed indecisive, to say the least. She seemed almost… vulnerable. Like she'd lost her role model. I scowled at the silhouette as she twirled her braid in one hand. Maybe "Helpful" needed some help.

All of the sudden, she tensed, her whole body going rigid. The braid flew out of her hand as she twirled around to see me. I stepped back a moment before her eyes trained on the balcony.

I stood there, not breathing, scarcely moving. I felt her stare on me as if she were x-raying through the wall. After a while, it stopped, and I heard a faint splash as she tossed the coin into the water again and quick steps as she walked away from the courtyard. I didn't move until five minutes later.

I made sure she was gone before I pushed myself back to the railing. I looked back at the city, completely dark now, and I could barely make out the time on the clock tower: 1:47.

I sighed, letting the cool night air rippled around my robe. Move my hair. I barely breathed as I heard the footsteps outside the door, and a terrified pause before it was opened. "You can leave, now—_Oh, no_."

I didn't say anything. I was still trying to mull over my thoughts. I didn't feel like being mad for no reason right now, especially after I'd been away so long. I also heard the owner of the voice rummaging through the room, glancing behind chairs, then opening the bathroom. My heart wrenched as I wondered if this was what it was like for him when I left.

"Cara?" The sound was just a terrified whisper, and I closed my eyes, forgetting why I had been upset in the first place. I stepped back into the room as if I was walking on broken glass, and I saw him poking his head into the closet.

"Matt."

The word had slipped from my lips before I'd meant it too, and suddenly he was up and staring at me. I took a step back from the expression on his face: Scared, worried, and even a little angry. It was the first time I'd felt truly scared—I wasn't sure what for. And I wasn't quite sure why I said, "I'm sorry," either.

"God, are you alright?" he exclaimed, rushing to me. "Where did you go?"

"I was on the balcony." I jerked my thumb backwards, but his gaze didn't leave me.

"Where's Aida?" he asked, still looking over me.

"Left."

He cringed at my choice of words, and I took his hand in mine as his face made a frown. "Are you alright?" I whispered.

His expression clouded over. "Damn it, Cara, I don't need you worrying about me." His eyes locked on my scar, and my gaze fell down to the floor.

We stood there, unmoving. I couldn't bring myself to look at his face, even glance up. I suddenly felt so much remorse, so much self-loathing, that Matt's head snapped up. I still didn't look at him—I was ashamed I had made everything so bad. I was trying to erase it from my mind, trying to draw back. There were some things I never wanted to lay eyes upon again.

"Cara." His tone had changed.

I shuddered from the phase that went through my body. "Did you think I left? You know—when you were looking for me just now?"

"No. I thought something had happened to you."

That sounded a lot better. "Promise?" A tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't want him to think for a moment that I'd left so soon.

"I swear," he murmured, crushing me against him. I sagged against him, starting to shake. I wondered how our positions had suddenly switched around. I wanted to comfort him. But here he was—comforting me. "Stop worrying, will you? It's not good for humans."

We didn't say anything for a long time. He laid us down on the bed together and just held me for a while. "I never did quit," he whispered after a moment, and I was confused. Quit? What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? Did vampires smoke now, or something? But then he said, "As much pain as it brought me, I also knew you were alive with each emotion I felt."

Oh. _Feelings_.

I buried my face into the crook of his arm. "I hated that place."

"I know."

"You wonder what happened." Not a question. We were good at interpreting each other like that.

I felt him nod anyway. "Of course. But that doesn't mean I'm going to push the story form you."

"Speaking of stories… you have your fair share of them to tell," I muttered half-heartedly. I had almost forgotten what I'd wanted to know. Almost.

When I lifted my face to his, he smiled at me. "You thought I was trying to hide it from you?"

"More or less."

"Oh, ye of little faith," he teased, grinning at me. "You didn't try to ask Aida?"

"She escaped before I could wrestle it out of her."

He laughed quietly. "Of course she did." He shifted me so I was sitting up, leaning against him, and he stroked my hair. "Are you sure you'd like to know? It's not a very happy story."

"None of our stories are… so says a certain Rosalie Hale."

He allowed that, kissing my forehead lightly. I snuggled closer, closing my eyes. And then his voice filled the room, telling a tale forbidden to most.

I was only special enough to hear it.

**OOO**

**I was reading some of the comments for Chapter 21 in Sunrise…. Some of you guys thought Matt was a **_**werewolf**_**!? AHHHH! I almost fainted, people! FAINTED!! Let me put your minds at ease:**

**1: A werewolf in the castle would make the Volturi kill it before it got anywhere near Matt's room. **

**2: "Husky" **_**could**_** mean that he's trying to cover up some emotion. **

**Just wanted to make sure that was well known.**

**I must claim full credit for all the love scenes. Julie is no longer working for me, so I'm branching out, because this story deserves that kind of attention.**

**Always,**

**Jamie.**


	2. Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

Nightfall

_**Nightfall**_

_Chapter 2: Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes_

**Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes—Fair to Midland**

**I'm surprised so many of you guys came back. Whooo-ee! **

**OOO**

"When I told you about Demetri and Jane, I wasn't lying."

I hadn't thought he was, but I was glad he clarified.

"They found me, just like I said, but they tortured me," he continued. "Even though they could very easily just track my family, I didn't know that, and they made my death that much worse. They tortured me for information, with the combined effort of Jane's mind and Demetri's strength."

I found myself going cold at the mention of Jane. But not vampire-cold. It was a chill spreading through my very humanlike bones.

Matt shuddered, his frame sending vibrations into mine. I gripped his shoulders as the words spilled out of his mouth, the expression, the agony on his face making me go numb. "I wouldn't give in," he pushed on. "I told them no, cussed them out—anything—a thousand times. I'm surprised," he whispered, his tone growing calmer, "now that I look back."

"Why?" I dared to ask.

"Because," he answered, raising his gaze to mine, "mortals under the influence of Jane always bow to her. _Always_, Cara. Why do you think I was so worried when she was taking you to Aro? I thought for sure they'd pester you for details about your family, and so on. I thought they'd make you go insane."

Insane? Was the pain that bad? I mean, of course remembered it, but I never thought it could make somebody go crazy.

But as Matt stared at me, his expression dark and scared, I found that my body was frozen, and all I could do was stare back at him.

His hands rubbed my arms, trying to create some friction. He could feel the fear spreading through me. "Cara," he whispered, his brows furrowed. "Are you sure you're alright? I can tell you some other time, you know."

I gathered the strength to shake my head furiously. I wanted to hear him out. Sure, I could know everything he wanted to tell me in a moment, but I wanted to hear it from him, willingly.

"Fine," he replied with a smile. "Anyway, the point of the story is that I didn't give in. They could've tortured me for a few minutes, or a thousand days. I lost track of time. But eventually, I began to look for ways to kill myself. I'd stop breathing, in order to pass out and just be reawakened by Jane's antics. I tried bashing my head in—that didn't really work either."

"Matt!" I hissed, horrified. Was he that much of a freaking idiot?

He surveyed my expression for a moment, and then he pulled me close. "I thought they were going to kill me anyway, Cara. Torture does that to people, you know. Makes them crazy."

I nodded mutely, snuggling deeper into his broad chest. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

"Not your fault, Cara," he dismissed roughly. "You weren't even alive, kiddo."

Kiddo? I shook my head. "I meant I felt sympathy."

He ignored me, continuing on. "And then there was worse pain. I was sure I was dead already, completely gone, and that I now existed in hell—or, if it wasn't hell, it was just some sort of afterlife. I was positive that was it, until I woke up.

"I was given not an ounce of time to recover. I was told the rules and put straight to work. I didn't even know Aida had been turned until a month later, when she and I crossed paths on patrol. We couldn't even talk because we were still being closely watched. All I could do was nod my head at her, and her me.

"And then, I saw my other sibling at mealtime. Lucas strode over to me before the . . ." He looked up at me, and I nodded to tell him I understood. "Well, before we drank, he walked over and began with mild conversation. I remember I was so angry. He and I had never gotten along in brotherhood, and I was furious that he'd been dragged into the afterlife with me.

"Aida, on the other hand, I didn't mind. Sure, we were still in an era where women didn't have many rights, but that was a moot point in the Volturi. And in my life as well. Aida had always been my favorite sibling, and not just by default, either. She was always the person I talked to, and I could always trust her. But after she changed . . . I didn't know what to do.

"At first, I was horrified by the prospect that she had to go through the same torture as me. I worried at what it must have been like for her. I tried to talk to her so many times, but each moment that I stopped, I was bombarded with another job, another task. It seemed like in this new way of existing I had no time for myself."

I frowned. "You seem to have enough time now," I protested, and he smiled.

"I was getting to that," he told me. "I lost track of my years, because, to be completely honest, it's borderline ridiculous to keep a calendar around. It's not like we were planning a world invasion or a D-Day or anything."

I cracked a smile. "Eisenhower. Good brushing up on your American History."

He tried to ignore me. "You interrupt a lot," he muttered.

"I'm just getting you back for that load of shit you gave me when I was telling you my life story," I told him grudgingly. "So, get used to it."

He grinned, shaking his head. I reached up to brush the hair from his golden eyes. "Finally—I'm not sure how long ago—I was promoted. It happens after so many years of service. So, now, I get my time to myself. Does that make sense?"

"A little," I answered. "Is it like they suddenly trust you, no questions asked?"

"Yes."

"That's a load of—"

He cut me off with a short glare. "Look at it this way, Care-Bear—"

"Did you just call me _Care-Bear_?" I demanded.

Matt pretended not to have heard me. "—it's more along the lines of—"

"Care-Bears are creepy, Matt. They have icons on their bellies."

"—we're so scared of you—"

"I don't want to be categorized with a fuzzy, creepy bear with a fuzzy, creepy icon on its belly."

"—that we'll do whatever you please. Not to mention the fact that we're sworn to secrecy and obedience and if we disobey that swear, we're dead meat."

I'd been so caught up in my rant about Care-Bears that I hadn't really been listening to what he was saying. The only reason he'd finished at all was because I'd had to stop—in mid-rant—to decide what my next comment was going to be.

"I never liked Care-Bears," I persisted sullenly. "They're fat, too. Do I look fat to you?" I pinched the skin of my forearm, trying to see if anything was out of the ordinary.

Matt rolled his eyes and took my hand in his. "Cara, chill."

"Did you just tell me to _chill_?" I wondered. "Oh, my God. What has happened to you? I demand a decent answer."

"Will you stop questioning my use of language?" he muttered, frustrated. "I'm trying to tell you a story."

"Don't!" I said sharply. "Don't do it!"

"What?"

I wagged a finger at him. "Don't you dare change the subject."

"I _didn't_—"

"You did."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm trying to keep us on the subject we were first on."

"That can wait," I replied, eyeing him. "I'm still demanding my answer. The sooner you tell me, the sooner you get to get back to your calendar statement."

He ran a hand over his face and groaned. "Okay, okay," he muttered. "When I went to America to look for you, I picked up a few things."

My good, giddy mood suddenly disappeared. I felt a bit bad for bringing it up. "Oh." My tone sounded wooden.

"Cara, I think you're sleep-deprived."

"I'm not," I insisted weakly. "I'm a vampire. I can't be sleep-deprived."

"You're also very human, and I think you need to take a powernap."

I glared at him. "I don't do powernaps."

"For me?"

"Why would this help you?" I challenged, and my answer was his smirk.

His very sexy smirk.

"Fine!" I exclaimed, falling down onto the pillow. "But you're wasting your own time here, buddy. I could just phase, but _no_. I have to resort to human behaviors and sleep."

"You'll feel better when you wake up," Matt told me, lying down beside me and wrapping a lazy arm around my waste.

I felt my energy draining, and I had a feeling Matt was right. "Yeah. Whatever," I sighed, snuggling closer to him. His arm tightened around me and I could feel the unneeded breaths making his chest rise and fall.

Needless to say, I feel asleep rather quickly.

**OOO**

I _didn't_ feel better when I wake up. I blame the human race.

Why does the human mind feel the need to process anything at all? What is so confusing about life? Sure, I'd had my traumatic experiences, but they made sense to me. My entire life made complete and normal sense. I didn't need my brain to work things out. I could handle it just fine.

But, um, no.

Added to the intense cycle of my life trials—such as being an orphan, then getting adopted by werewolves, then getting turned into a vampire, and after _that _I got abducted by vampires, then ran away after getting sexually harassed by a blonde fiend, and then I reminisced in my childhood in sweet home Alabama, not to mention after that my best friend, Rob, was killed right in front of my eyes and then I got abducted again by the blonde fiend (Lucas) and then I broke out after an severe face off with a bunch of Newbies, aided by Maddie, Rob's sister, before I killed Lucas and went back to said lover—I had dreams.

Sure, the whole lifecycle thing sounds confusing, but when you actually live it, it's not so bad. Well, yes, actually, it was pretty bad. But it wasn't confusing, at least.

And not only did I have dreams, I decided as I woke up to see Matt was nowhere in sight. I had dreams about flowers. _Flowers_. After getting into several car crashes, ripping a vampire's head off, and falling in love with a somewhat pure, hot Matt, I had dreams about flowers.

Oh, the irony.

It was the same exact dream, too. Pretty flowers in meadows, dancing in the breeze. And then I find the prettiest flower, Snow White's fairest one of all, and _the sky rips open_.

I do not—I repeat: _do not_—get it.

Yeah, okay, flowers smell nice. Sure. But what is so important about them? Sure, bees like them. But why was my brain trying to make sense of my life through flowers?

And if I'm the girl with all the answers in the world, I will never understand whatever resolve comes along with that question. Never.

So, I awoke in a foul mood, because one: Matt wasn't there. And two: as I processed this fact I remembered that dream, hence my little ongoing tirade about the human mind and dreams and my entire life story.

Normally, I wouldn't give my flower dream a second thought. But this was bugging me. Why? Because it had starred in my human dreams twice in a row now. Dreams that don't repeat, I don't heed. But this one was driving me totally insane. What was my brain trying to make sense of anyway?

I had fallen back onto the bed so I could stare at the ceiling, when I heard the door open and close quickly.

That wasn't the surprising part.

What made this interesting was the fact that the smell coming from the doorway wasn't Matt.

It was Aida.

"Rise and shine!" she shouted exuberantly. "Come on, sleepy head. Let's get a move on!"

I pulled the covers over my head, trying to ignore her. She yanked them off.

I'd gone back to vampire mode, but that didn't necessarily mean I wanted to leave my bed. "What the hell are you doing here, Aida?" I demanded grumpily, sitting up.

"Taking you out."

I glanced out the window, to the large clock tower in the city. "It's three in the morning. I've only been asleep for an hour."

An hour. Why wasn't Matt here?

"Oops," Aida supplied, shrugging. "Sorry. You were already awake when I walked in."

"Yeah, that's not—" I broke off and stared at her. "Wait a second. _Take me out_? Why?"

Before she could answer, a better question formed in my mind. "Does Matt know—"

Aida shook her head. "Nope." She sauntered over to my bed and pulled me up. "Come on, then. Upsie Daisy."

"Where are where going?" I demanded as she reached for my jacket. "Aida—"

"I want to talk to you."

"Why?"

She stopped her buzzing for a moment to stare at me. "I need your help."

I blinked. I'd been right. Helpful needed some help.

"With?" I asked.

Aida didn't answer me. Instead, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin a little. I got the extremely distinct impression that she was not only self-conscious, but also very stubborn. She didn't like the fact that she had to ask me for help.

"Are you coming?" she shot at me.

"I'd like to know what I'm getting into."

A sigh. "How about I tell you somewhere less . . . open?"

I didn't say anything.

"I promise," Aida insisted, "that I will tell you. If I tell you, the only obligation that you will have to me is not to tell anyone. Not even Matt. I'll tell him when the time's right."

I weighed my options, but before I could give her an answer, she added, "Please? I know you have that thing going on."

My eyes widened. What _thing_ was she talking about?

"I know what you can do, Cara. And I can only—"

I reached out and yanked her down to the floor. I don't know why I did that. I think I was just looking for some hostile way to get her to shut up. "Shh!" I hissed. "I'll go, okay? Just don't _say anything_."

The point was, Aro and the rest of the damn Volturi knew about one of my powers, the most prominent and least useful one. They knew I could turn into a human. But Matt and Lucas were the only two who knew about me knowing things. Like, a psychic, basically. Truth be told, I had never really bought into the whole psychic deal, but now I was starting to wonder. I'd never really known things when I was human. As I'd began to turn, I'd had hunches, but it wasn't the same thing.

I hadn't asked Carlisle when I'd had the chance, so I had no idea where my bizarre power came from. Matt had a theory that it was the combination of my heritage—vampire plus human. But that didn't exactly make sense.

But, if Aro knew that I knew things, I was dead meat. Volturi bait. They'd make me swear to secrecy and all that other crap, and then they'd make me tell them things. Make me do things.

Not exactly Dream Job of the Year, right?

So I nodded to Aida and followed her out into the dark hallway. No one would mind two vampires leaving a room and heading out. It wasn't exactly an unheard-of thing. The guard of the Volturi were like a big, happy family—minus the happy and the love within a family.

Aida led me out to the forest, and while we were running, I couldn't help but ask myself, _Why is she blackmailing me?_ She'd seemed like a pretty nice person, but then again, she had her secrets.

But when I asked myself that question, I didn't get an answer. I probably wasn't being specific enough. But before I could rephrase, Aida stopped.

"We should be safe here," she announced dramatically, glancing around. "You okay?"

"I want to know why you're blackmailing me," I replied acidly.

She raised one trim eyebrow. "I'm sorry? Blackmailing you? I'm not doing that."

"Oh, really?" I inquired. "Then what about threatening to publicize my power?"

"Excuse me? What power?"

I stared straight at her. "Don't play dumb." I'll admit. I was pissed. And when one is pissed, said one usually is less careful. "My power—knowing things?"

At first, I didn't register the look of shock on her face. She just stared at me, mouth open, eyes wide. "I beg your pardon?" she tried again to understand. "Knowing things? What on Earth are you talking about?"

It was my turned to be stunned. "Um," I managed.

"What do you mean, 'knowing things'?" She demanded. The status quo had changed.

"Um," I said again. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. What was I going to do.

"You have two powers?" Aida asked. "Are you kidding me?"

I shook my head. "I, uh—"

Her eyes lit up. "You're a psychic!"

"No," I told her, not really appreciating the irony of my day. "I'm not a psychic. Psychic is what Alice is. It's different."

And, there it was. Conformation. I'd said it without even realizing it. I was a piece of—

"Holy shit!" Aida said, and I blinked, startled to hear such language from such a young face. But then again, she was older than me. And when I was her age, I'd said the same stuff. Besides, you'd think I'd be used to it, with my werewolf of a brother who was only eleven. You should hear the mouth on that boy.

"Well," Aida continued. "This works out better than I expected."

I glared. "Hold up," I said. "This doesn't give you—"

"I wasn't blackmailing you," she interrupted. "And I don't plan on it, so you can relax. I told you, no obligations. Listen to what I have to say, and then you're free to hit the road."

We stared at each other for a long time, gazes unwavering and still. I tapped my fingers on my crossed arms, mulling my choice over. I could walk away now, and be unburdened, or I could stay and listen, no questions asked.

"Fine," I sighed finally, and I watched as her eyes illuminated. "I'll listen."

She bounded forward and gave me a brief squeeze. "Thank you!"

I pushed her away. "You better start talking," I told her foully. "If Matt sees I'm gone he's going to have a cow."

**OOO**

**I'm back! Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!**

**Yeah. Had a moment. Well, it sure puts a smile on my face to know that you guys cared enough to come back and leave me reviews. I love you guys!**

**Jamie**


	3. No More Sorrow

Nightfall

_**Nightfall**_

_Chapter 3: No More Sorrow_

**No More Sorrow—Linkin Park**

**It was interesting with your thoughts on Aida. Oh, and by the way, the website has been reedited. The Sunrise Playlist and the FAQ have been updated. **

**OOO**

"I want out."

The words hit me like a slap. "What?"

"Out," Aida repeated. "As in, away from here. You're the only person who can help me do it."

"How do I fit into this problem?" I asked, watching as she sunk to the grassy floor. "Why do you need me?"

Of course, I could just ask myself these questions, but I didn't feel like it. I wanted Aida's perspective. I also wanted to see if she'd lie her ass off to me.

"Here's the thing," Aida began. "At first, I just needed somebody to blend in with the crowd. Get out, find ways to slip past security. When I got to thinking about it, though, the more you fit into the equation. And the solution."

"I'm listening."

A deep breath. "You don't actually belong to the Volturi," Aida stated. "You don't have any binding ties. You don't have to be pushed around. In fact, you don't even have to stay here."

I didn't see what she meant. "That's a debatable point," I highlighted.

"Not really," she replied, he face stoic. "My point is that they don't control you. I need someone who's tough, and I need somebody who can handle the game."

"And what game am I playing?" I asked.

She smiled, but without humor. "One with no rules."

Oh, holy defecation. That was my kind of game. But, one problem.

"Sure," I said offhandedly. "I can handle that, all right. The problem is the aftermath. What makes you so sure they'll be all hunky dory once you actually get out? Do you think they'll just be, 'Oh, yeah. That Aida girl. So what if she disappeared? Let's just not give her a second thought'? Um, no."

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "I have a decent argument about that. It involves one Cara Cullen."

I gapped at her. "The only reason they didn't come after me was because of some test they were conducting. And I'm still pretty pissed. I still have to strike some deal with Aro so they leave one of my three families alone. Do you get that?"

Her eyes widened. "What kind of deal, Cara?"

"Whatever it takes."

She closed her eyes and leaned away from me. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I need guaranteed safety. For them. I could care less about me. I've been through worse."

Her eyes flashed in recognition of something, and then she focused back on me. "It's one thing to go unwillingly into this business, you fool, but it's entirely different to serve yourself up on a silver platter."

I narrowed my eyes. "Tell me something," I commanded. "You saying this because you're afraid about your precious plans, or are you saying this because you actually care about me?"

She met my eyes, completely undaunted by my glare. "If you want me to be honest, a little of both."

"And you just want me to trust you?" I snorted. "Sorry, but I just met you five hours or so ago."

She shook her head. "If you want to get technical about it, you met me about two years ago when I took that picture."

"I don't want to get technical about it," I replied harshly. "I still don't see why you need me. How do I know this isn't just another test?"

Aida cocked her head to the side. She didn't answer my question about the test, because, frankly, she and I both knew that whatever she said, I either wouldn't believe her, or I'd throw a curveball at her.

Instead, she explained again why I was the crucial ingredient to her Runaway Potion.

"You can get out," she was saying. "You can get outside information. We can't. _I_ can't. If I'm ever going to be able to find the secret to actually enjoying eternal life, I need you."

"I'm not just going to leave Matt here," I told her, my temper flaring. I'd just gotten back.

Her gaze hardened. "You'd be doing him a favor."

I recoiled as if someone had slapped me. "Did you see him when I left?" I demanded of her, shocked. "He was miserable!"

"I didn't mean it like _that_," she informed me, rolling her eyes. "Of course he needs you. I meant that when you got back and had the answer, he'd be free too. I wasn't going to leave my brother—pardon me, my _favorite_ brother—out of the joy of actually living. You may find me shallow, but I'm not that shallow."

"And if there's no answer?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought."

Aida stood, wrapping her cloak about her. "I'm not guaranteeing anything. I said this was a game with no rules, and I meant it. I don't know if there's a riddle at the last level, or a boss to defeat. I don't know what's going to happen." She began walking back to the edge of the shadows. "Think on it, Cara. Take all the time you need. I've been here seventy-odd years. I can wait a few more."

And, just like that, she disappeared.

Damn vampires.

**OOO**

I didn't feel like going through the trouble of walking through the castle and probably getting questioned by one of the many Volturi as to why I was out or as to why I was walking alone through the halls. Or, just for the hell of it.

Instead, I pulled a Romeo.

Yes, that's right. I climbed the ivy to the window.

Yeah, I know. _You didn't want to go through trouble, Cara?_ you may ask. Why, yes, I didn't want to go through trouble. But, you may recall that a couple stories-worth of climbing ivy is not all that daunting compared to perilous torture. And, this time, even though the distance was twice as high as my home back in Montana, I didn't have a broken arm this time, and my speed was enhanced, to say the least.

And when I tumbled through the stained glass windows, and hit the floor, just for the hell of it, I didn't expect to hear what I heard next.

"Have fun with my sister?"

The voice sounded bitter, and I detected a little hurt in it. I glanced away from the ceiling to the tall, dark figure beside me and grimaced.

"Matt—" I began, but he silenced me.

I didn't know what to do. He seemed a little too mad for the circumstances. What was the matter with him? He'd never been this protective before.

"Look, Cara," he said harshly, and I sat up to stare at his glowing, golden eyes. "I don't want you wondering around. Especially not with Aida."

I could only stare at him.

He drew a deep breath and let it out shakily. "Sure, she's my sister. But she's also part of the Volturi. And I don't know what's been leaking into her all these years."

It sounded to me, to be completely and utterly honest, that he was trying to convince himself.

"Do you have some sort of problem?" I asked strangely. "Is it that you don't trust me or something?"

He looked startled. "No!" he exclaimed. "That's not it, not at all."

I pushed myself to my feet and crossed my arms. Matt knew this stance. He knew he'd crossed some sort of line.

I'm a generally sensitive person—I'll admit it. And, usually, as I'd just experienced with Aida, I don't keep a level head when I'm angry. I don't realize what I'm saying. I just lash out, and then I think about it later.

Well, that is not a relatively good thing.

So, instead of saying something like, "Matt, I can see that you're worried. Just tell me and we can work it out," like I should have, I said:

"So you don't trust my judgment. Nice."

Now, if you know guys, you know that they take insults in a way that some would classify as hostile. They get all defensive, and start throwing in things that make absolutely no sense, or have no ties to the common subject.

Matt's eyes flashed as I stared at him, and he no longer seemed like he liked the idea of my carefully composed poker face. "You've known my sister since yesterday, Cara. Last time I checked, that isn't long enough to make a judgment on somebody."

_Well, there goes defensive,_ I thought bitterly as I tried to come up with a good comeback. I figured "Your face" wouldn't really do it for me.

"And, when, Cara," he continued with his tirade, throwing his arms about to add to the dramatic atmosphere, "do you suddenly decide to trust her out of nowhere?"

"Whoa!" I cried. "Back up. Who said I trust her? I haven't even—"

I stopped, mid-sentence, because I'd caught myself. I'd been about to say, "I haven't even agreed to what she asked me!" But, I realized grimly, I couldn't say that. Because, unfortunately, even if I didn't spill any dirty details, Matt would still want to know what the freaking hell I was talking about. And he wouldn't back down.

Regrettably for me, he noticed my sudden stop in rant. His face took on an outlandish expression as he stared at me. "Haven't even_ what_, Cara?" he demanded.

I dropped my gaze to the floor. I needed to think fast. What could I do to get out of this? Options—I needed options. _Crap,_ I realized a moment later. I had no options. I was totally sunk unless a miracle came my way.

I changed back into a human, hoping that this would somehow soften the blow I was about to deal to both Aida and Matt. I was about to betray Aida's trust, and I'd already done that with poor Matt.

But before I could even open my mouth, Matt's soft, concerned voice drifted over to me. "Cara?" he whispered.

I lifted my hand to my face to feel a strange wetness, and I got the fact that I was crying.

But I didn't know why.

"Oh, hell," Matt cursed, his voice suddenly angry. I wasn't the only one having mood swings, apparently. But, before I could ponder deeper into that fact, I felt Matt's presence by my side, and he grabbed my arms to steer me away from the window. I was gently laid back into the plush armchair that had been in the room since as far back as I remembered, and then Matt was kneeling to his knees. "Cara—"

"I'm fine," I tried to say, but it just came out like a strangled moan.

He raised a hand to brush back my bangs, so gently. "God," he whispered. "Look at you. Look at _me_. Look at _me_, doing this to _you_."

I shook my head furiously, but Matt wasn't to be stopped.

"You've been through so much, and here I am, lecturing you about how to be safe. You need somebody who can just take you for who you are right now, and here I am, acting like your father." A weak smile from him. "No offense to your male parental figure."

I shook my head again, trying to get him to shut up, but I don't think he noticed.

"Cara, you have to listen to me when I say that I'm just worried about you. You've been gone for so long, and you've only been here for about a week and a half at the most. What do you expect me to do?" he added softly. "The environment's more dangerous than last time."

I sniffled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that they want you on the guard."

My eyes widened, and I stopped sniffling. Oh, crap. "No," I heard myself say. "Can they make me?"

"Not in the literal sense, no." But Matt didn't look to happy. "But they can . . . persuade you, if all else fails."

I don't know why I said it. I don't know why I told Matt—overprotective, worried, Matt—about my most recent troubles. He had enough going on. But then, I just blurted out: "I was going to make some sort of deal anyway," I blubbered. "You know, because they know about Jaime. And then, you and I can't just stay here forever. I was going to have to do something to get us out—"

"Cara!" Matt hissed, his voice sounding outraged. "A _deal_? With _them_? Are you absolutely insane?"

I shut my eyes tightly, so I wouldn't have to look at his shocked face. It occurred to me that he hadn't thought of all the details I had. He'd just been glad I was home. He hadn't delved into all these "what ifs" yet. It probably hadn't even crossed his mind about what we were going to do with our lives.

I pulled my knees into my chest and rested my forehead against them. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, badda-bing, badda-boom, done."

"Aida was right, then."

My head shot up. "Right about what?"

Matt didn't say at first, probably trying to use his words with care. "She said you wouldn't be happy here. I mean, I knew you wouldn't. But I had hoped, somehow . . ."

I stared at him. "Of course I'm not happy here," I practically laughed. "Matt, you twot." A depressing thought struck me then. "But did she say I'd just take off or something?"

His look told me that she'd implied it.

"Oh," I muttered, running a hand over my face. "Oh, jeez. Matt," I said, trying to get back to eye level with him. "She couldn't be more wrong. I'm not going to just leave you here."

He looked at me, and while I knew he would never, ever say it, he was thinking it.

"I know I did once," I sighed, trying to make him understand. "But it won't happen again."

"Promise?" he asked, sounding like a four-year-old, spoiled rotten kid who wanted to go to the candy store later. But I didn't care.

I nodded solemnly at him. "I don't just promise," I declared. "I _swear_."

**OOO**

I went for a walk the next day, just around the woods in the back, to clear my head. It was just my luck, however, that the sky picked this time to pour down the chilling droplets of rain.

So, I sat there, in the middle of a storm, trying to clear my head. My week just kept getting worse and worse.

My teeth were chattering, because I'd had the insane idea to walk around as a human! And now I was too stubborn to change back. I was shivering violently, and I wished I had brought some space heater, but at that time, I figured my resulting epiphany would be all worth it in the end.

It wasn't. Not really.

Because, as I sat there, I was forced to make my decision on whether or not to take Aida's offer up.

It was a lose-lose situation. It wasn't really obvious what I'd be compelled to do, or if I could trust this random person in the first place. So she had dangled the choice of freedom in front of me. Technically, I had it.

Maybe not for long, but I had it.

Matt didn't.

And I'd be willing to trade my service for that, which would ultimately get us _no where_. And here Aida just came along with this golden suggestion. There had to be _some_ catch. There had to be some sort of issue going on behind her generosity. Right?

Or maybe she'd run out of options. Maybe she was just desperate enough to resort to her last choice. Maybe she actually cared.

But, then again, what vampire in the history of forever that belonged to the Volturi cared about anyone? Right off the back?

There was only one exception, and that was Matt. And even though Aida was Matt's biological sister, he'd said it himself—what could possibly have been leaking into her all these years?

I was still going back and forth, debating, when Matt showed up.

He didn't look too happy. This, my friends, is what people call an "understatement."

To be more specific, he looked . . . to put it bluntly, livid. And that expression only intensified when he realized I was not being smart. When he realized I was shivering and chattering and not a vampire. He crossed over to me in three long strides, almost a blur, and then he pulled me up, cradled me into his chest, and ran.

Eventually, the rain stopped. I could still hear it, a soft pitter-patter against something soft, and I noted the trickle of water that seemed to fill whatever place we were in. I couldn't be sure where—my eyes were still closed.

"Cara," he said tightly, only pulling me closer to him. "You're freezing."

I mumbled, "I know."

I could almost feel him roll his eyes. "Why?"

My teeth were still chattering, and I struggled to answer. "Stubborn," I hissed out. "Didn't . . . feel . . . like . . . being . . . sensible."

One humongous sigh from Matt. "Change back. Now."

I shook my head violently. I was too cold.

He rubbed my arms, trying to cause some sort of friction, and I felt the warmth easing back into my body. "Th-th-thanks," I chattered, shivering.

"You are one hell of an idiot" was his reply. But I knew he was just worried. About me. And my sanity.

"Now," he said when I'd finally shifted back into my more durable self. "Would you mind telling me why you were out here during a January storm?"

I told him the truth. Not all of it, of course, but I said, "To clear my head."

Eyebrows raised.

"Just thinking some things through."

He waited.

"I don't want to talk about it," I told him stiffly, and I tried not to register the hurt that flashed across his eyes.

He didn't let it go. "Is this about Aida?" he asked finally.

I blinked at him. "No," I said, and I hoped he wasn't registering the panic that was coursing through me.

He groaned and leaned against the nearest tree. "Cara," he growled, anger directed at something other than me.

"I'm not lying to you," I lied. Way to go, Cara.

His eyes locked on mine, scrutinizing me. Finally, his face relaxed, looking dejected. "I wish you would tell me."

"I can't."

He frowned. "You don't have to be ashamed around me."

I shook my head. "That's not it."

He looked genuinely confused, and hurt, and I wanted so much to tell him right there. But I couldn't open my mouth. My agreement was weird—don't tell someone I trust, and make an agreement with someone I most definitely didn't.

It made no sense, and yet, I was talking myself more into it every minute.

God. What did I do?

Matt still held his silence. He was trying not to show his emotions, I knew that much. But I could tell he was frustrated with me. Anyway, I opened up the "feeling" barrier between us, and I almost staggered when his emotions hit me.

Anger. Blind anger. And hurt, ripping into the pit of my stomach. I gritted my teeth and tried to turn it off. I felt myself collapsing, because I wasn't used to it, and suddenly there was concern, desperation, as he dropped beside me.

My name was called out in a harsh yell, and I was being shaken. And then I somehow shut it off, and everything became clear again.

What was clearest was the way Matt was staring at me. As if I had died. Or something terrible had happened.

"Christ, Cara," he whispered as he brushed away the hair that was one my face. "What the hell happened to you?"

**OOO  
**

**Sorry. Had to leave a cliffy. I just finished reading Feast of Fools, by Rachel Caine. Fantastic. You guys should really read that series if you like Twilight. It kicks ass.**

**The Morganville Vampire Series, by Rachel Caine. They're damn good.**

**But anyways, I'm done advertising! Glad to see everybody—or almost everybody back. Hearts!**

**And remember to check out the website!**

**Always, **

**Jamie**


	4. Already Over

Nightfall

_**Nightfall**_

_Chapter 4: Take My Hand_

**Already Over—Red**

**OOO**

I blinked at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. I felt all disoriented, not sure what feelings were mine and what feelings were Matt's. I couldn't think; my brain was all fuzzy and clogged.

I held both of my hands to my head and clutched it, screwing my eyes shut against the torrent. "Turn it off," I moaned, and I guess he got the gist of what was happening to me.

He was the one to blink this time, and now he was concerned. No, way concerned. He was freaking out. My emotions went haywire. "Matt!" I groaned. "Chill. Tell me how to turn it off."

He sighed, and pressed his lips to my temple. "Relax," he whispered. "Sort out the emotions one by one, and then pull free. It doesn't take too long."

I tried to do what he said, and finally, as I went through my own head, I could feel his emotions being pulled away. It wasn't hard, because his main three were fear, concern, and curiosity. Finally, I could be myself again.

"You okay?" Matt asked me quietly, trying to sound unbothered by what had just happened.

I shook my head, waving off the concern. "I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me."

He glowered at me. "Maybe," he said, "you should lie down."

"Maybe," I retorted, feeling weak and not liking it, "I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not tired," I lied, but leaned against him anyway. "Besides, I don't want to go back into the castle yet."

He stared at me, narrowing his eyes, not sure what I meant, exactly. "Why?" His tone was suspicious, which only made me recoil away from him.

"If you haven't realized already, I don't exactly like going into that place," I growled at him.

Matt looked defeated when I turned back to him. "I know," he said. "I've always known. But Cara, that's where you live now."

"I don't live there."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I told him, and even to my own ears, my voice sounded cruel, "except for the obvious reasons—"

"Those being?" he asked, voice tight.

I turned. "That I usually don't actually live?" I continued, "Besides the obvious reasons, Matt, my heart isn't there."

The shock on his face was enough to tell me that I'd said something wrong. I didn't understand, until he asked, "I beg your pardon?"

Oh, crap. _My heart wasn't there_. He'd taken it literally. My eyes widened as I was trying to explain. "Matt," I began, but his face began molding into a mask of concealed hurt.

"I see," he told me, sounding casual. "You're heart isn't in Italy, is it? Maybe you did run away for your own good that time."

I recoiled as if he'd slapped me.

"And, to be completely honest, Cara," he pressed on, not sounding casual at all anymore. He sounded mean. "I know you're lying to me here. I know something's up, and I don't like it. When you come around, feel free to tell me, but until then, don't expect me to be nice."

And then he left, leaving me alone in the faint rain.

I pulled my hands to my face and covered it, trying not to revert to my weak self, trying desperately not to start sobbing. What had I done? Why had I even said that? What was wrong with me?

"Matt," I forced myself to whisper. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant it wasn't my _home_. That's two completely different things, Matt," I continued to hiss to myself, but my hissing wasn't angry. It was broken and sad-sounding. "Two completely different things."

A chuckle sounded behind me. I turned, my face starting to wet itself with tears, not expecting to see anyone other than Matt. But I did see somebody else. Somebody who couldn't possibly be real. Somebody who'd died a long time ago.

I'd made sure he was dead. I'd killed him.

"Poor little Cara," Lucas mocked. "So lost without somebody to guide you. How pathetic."

I screamed, throwing my hands around my head and falling to the ground. "Get away from me!" I shrieked, clutching my head. "Leave me alone!"

Another ghostly chuckle, and then I knew it was gone. But that didn't stop me from sobbing, from convulsing on the ground as I tried to remember my way back. But I couldn't open my eyes, I couldn't think of anything except the made-up words that my mind had screamed at me.

"Stop it!" I screamed at myself, not caring if somebody heard me. "Get out of my head!"

I had stood up, but I didn't realize it until I fell to the soggy earth again in sobs, clutching my head again and kneeling over. It would never end, he would always be here. I knew why, too. The scar. The venom was a part of him, so it held his powers. His power was making one relive terrible experiences. He'd known what he was doing. He wasn't dead, not really. He was perfectly alive in me.

God. I had so many problems.

I don't know how long it was that I lied there—probably not too long—but I began to hear footsteps, pounding against the earth, moving fast. And then the air was whipping as a body sliced through it, leaping, and a resounding pound as it landed. The body stood still, then, the only sound was ragged, unnecessary breathing.

"Cara," he whispered brokenly, walking towards me with exaggerated slowness. "Cara, Cara, Cara."

I was still crying, my tears mixing with the dirt on my face. Matt didn't seem to care that I was covered in it. He wrapped his arms around my shuddering frame, pressing his face into my hair as I cried into his shoulder. As he whispered my name again and again, sounding horrified with himself, my heartbeat slowed, my breathing calmed. But the tears still came as the rain increased its tempo. I shivered against it my shirt was soaked through, plastered to my skin.

"Come on," he said softly, still clasping me to his stone chest. He stood, hitching an arm around my legs. "Let's get back before they realize your missing."

**OOO**

They had.

Marcus peered around the corner of the hallway as Matt ascended the main stairs, still cradling me to his chest. "Did you kill her, Matthias?" he asked innocently. Well, as innocently as a brawny vampire in a smoky black cape could sound. "She looks like a drowned cat."

I was sure I did: red, puffy eyes. Stringy, limp hair. My clothes were stuck to my skin, and I was shivering against Matt's body. He'd tried to hold me further away from him, but I'd started to cling desperately.

I glared at Marcus anyway, because his comment really, really, pissed me off.

Matt felt my anger, and he warned through tight lips, "Marcus, not now."

"She looks like she did that time you brought her back from the lake. Except . . . more angry."

"Shut up," Matt growled, and jogged past him and up the rest of the stairs.

He steered us into the bathroom in his room, sitting me on the toilet and turning on the water. As the tub filled with steam and hot water, he knelt down in front of me and searched my face. It was angry and numb looking—I knew that. I had seen it in the mirror.

"Are you alright?" Matt asked quietly.

I glanced up at him distractedly, lost in my thoughts. When I spoke, my voice was detached. "You'd think I'd feel better about everything. You'd think it wouldn't be bothering me anymore," I murmured. "But he is, and I can't shake him because of this." I pulled down the neck of my wet shirt and the scar, of course, was still there. "He won't leave me alone."

A tear slid down my cheek and Matt brushed it away. "You need to forget," he whispered, giving me a chaste kiss. "I know it's hard, but you need to let the guilt go. I promise there isn't any part of me that could hate you for killing him. I was going to anyways."

"What happened to Mr. Not Being Nice?" I asked, my voice with no humor.

He shook his head. "I got over it when I heard you screaming."

I bit my lip as he stroked my hair back from my forehead to give me a kiss there, too. I dared ask the question. "Could you make me forget?"

He stared at me, confused. Is eyes searched mine once again, but I was sure my eyes were blank, like the rest of my expression. When the meaning of my question finally dawned on him, he shook his head. "I can't," he told me sorrowfully. "I can't make you forget who you are, Cara. When you get over this, it will make you stronger then you were—even when I first met you and you intended to kick my ass. Hell, maybe you'll even be able to backtalk Aro."

"Really?" I asked, giving him a weak smile.

"Hell, no. But you get my drift."

I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed. "I have some serious issues," I grumbled.

Matt didn't reply, but he peeled off the soaked shirt from my torso and hung it on the doorknob. I noticed he didn't look down, not once, but kept his eyes trained on my face with no visible effort.

"Take your shower. I'll be in the next room." He walked to the door, turned, and whispered, "Love you."

"You, too," I mumbled, and the door clicked shut. I stepped into the steam of the shower and the heat was searing. I gasped, and I could hear Matt step toward the door as I reverted back to my vampire self. He stopped and turned back to the bed, and I almost felt the vibrations from him slumping into it.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed in the hot shower, but eventually, the water began to cool, and I stepped out and toweled myself down. I then walked out of the bathroom, not exactly bothering to keep the towel secure. I didn't feel vulnerable with Matt, and when I finished dressing, I snuggled close to him under the warm covers.

"I wouldn't call this," he said, fingering the lace of my gown, "dressing."

I kissed his collarbone, the only place I could reach. "It goes past my knee," I replied. "It's dressing."

"Right. Of course."

"I've been thinking," I announced after a while.

Matt stopped tracing my arm and gave me an appraising look. "Oh dear."

"No, really," I persisted. "You told me you wanted me to tell you about this lie. Well, I can't tell you everything. I made a promise, okay? But I can tell you this much."

His eyes scorched in the darkness. "Tell me, then."

"I'm going to propose something to your boss," I told him without hesitating. "Is it possible to . . . _quit_ the Volturi."

"You're leaving?" he inquired blankly, but I could tell he didn't like the sound of this.

"If I say yes, will you be obligated to come with me?" He glared at me when he realized I was only kidding, but then I insisted, "But you will be."

"Leaving? Me? Not likely."

"We'll see after I speak to Aro."

His lips crashed down on mine, preventing me from continuing. Then, "I'd really rather not talk about Aro when you and I are kissing, my beloved." He traced my jaw with his lips, and I patted his cheek, the picture of innocence etched into my features.

"Goodnight."

**OOO**

I stood in front of the huge, golden double doors, waiting for them to open, and to see Jane's evil face behind them. I'd arranged this meeting with the devil so Matt wasn't anywhere near, but that didn't mean I was looking forward to it.

And then the doors did open, but it wasn't Jane. It was Alec, the little demon child. I tried to keep an angelic smile on my face. "You're here to speak with Aro," he predicted before I could say a word, and I nodded. He looked more than bored as he commanded, "Come in."

I did, and I saw Aro sitting in a large, plush-looking lounge chair, his back turned to me. I knew it was him from the dainty way he was sitting. I couldn't imagine how someone so . . . pathetic could be so powerful. It was that stupid mind-reading thing.

Which reminded me I couldn't let him touch me. I couldn't, or he'd figure out the entire plan with Aida, and my power, and the exact location of my family, if he didn't already know.

Alec gestured me to the chair opposite of the very man I hated, and I sat down and stared at the tea in front of me. My God. Aro hadn't been kidding. He really meant _tea_.

I tried not to look surprised as I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Um, tea, sir?" I asked casually."

He smiled at me, a sickly smile. "I thought I would keep in mind your human priorities. My cup is full of blood of course."

I never thought I'd hear that sentence spoken so politely.

"Thank you." Personally, I hated tea with the fierce passion of a thousand burning suns, but I figured I would keep that to myself. Not to mention I wasn't human now. "Also," I continued, forcing myself to take a sip, "thank you for speaking with me. It means a lot."

"My pleasure. What troubles you, my dear?"

_My dear_? Was he insane? But I looked straight into his cold, frightening, red eyes. "I have a favor to ask of you, if you would be so kind, Aro. I'd also appreciate it if you would consider the quarry before you rule my proposition out."

"Consider it done. What is it that you wish?"

"You do know what happened at the prison in Canada, correct?" He nodded, so I continued: "Well, as I consider it a favor to you—after all, I did exterminate a threat to your hierarchy—I want a favor in return."

He stared at me, unblinking. "It depends on the deed."

"You do remember," I began, my tone perfectly polite, "that if you had just killed Lucas at the time of his departure, I never would have been tortured, my best friend never would have died, and I would not be asking you for this."

"Continue."

"In exchange for my favor, I would like you to consider Matthias' liberation from your guard. It's only one member," I added calmly, "and you must have heard how strong our compatibility is."

I sounded like an E-Harmony commercial.

Aro didn't move. "You _do_ realize I have already lost a guard because of you? I don't know if I can afford to lose yet another."

My expression probably hardened. "Lucas was about to be let go anyway, and he was of no loss to you at the time of his absolute death. Plus, you must have more guards to replace him; after all, you could always just bite somebody . . . . With all do respect," I added with a smile that was probably not friendly. I stood and left, leaving him with, "Just think about it."

**OOO**

"Do you want to inform me about your 'conference'? Or Is that merely a secret?" Matt asked in a hard voice as I was walking through the doorway. I stopped, to see him in his chair. I'd completely missed him when I walked by.

And then his expression settled in on me, and reminded me of his words. Crap. He'd figured it out.

Matt was reading Latin again, and he was staring at me over the top of his book. He didn't look mad, but he didn't look happy either. I grinned at him, imitating a zipper across my lips. I threw away the key.

He immediately looked bored. "Secret," he concluded. "You seem quite confident about it, but I did feel you getting frustrated."

I closed the door and walked over to the bed. "You felt right."

He glanced at my blank face again and frowned. He was confused, hurt, and a little deprived, but the last one was his fault. "It's nothing against you," I tried to assure him, being truthful. "But unlike me, Aro is aloud to read your palm. If I tell you, he'll know all of what I'm planning, and I can't afford that."

He frowned again, lines creasing in his forehead. "Are you sure I can't . . . seduce it from you?" He asked silkily as he set his book aside.

I gave him a look. "Positive."

He gave me a sexy grin, telling me that he didn't believe me. But I changed into a human before he could take another step toward me, grinning at the surprised look on his face. "Not fair," he growled when he got the message, and he flopped onto the bed. I changed back guiltily, crawling into his arms. I kissed his jaw lightly, and his arms tightened around me waist.

"I'm sorry," I admitted.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Don't be. I'm just being overprotective."

"I seem to have a lot of those kinds of people in my life," I mused.

"It's because you're so valuable." He began to stroke my side, and I looked into his face. He wasn't looking at me, but at the opposite wall. "And vulnerable."

I opened my mouth to argue, but his eyes looked so . . . afraid. Helpless. "That was my own fault," I tried to say, and his gaze snapped back to me. No longer was there pain and sorrow. His eyes were angry—at who, I wasn't sure. But his face had that look again. Stony. "I didn't leave," I continued. "I went out in search of my family—"

His mood changed again, and he crushed me to his chest. "I missed you so much," he whispered; his voice was breaking. "I'd thought I'd lost you so many times, especially when you'd learned that he and I had shared blood. I was so . . . scared."

I felt the urge to throw out a joke, but this was the first time we'd talked about it since . . . .well, since never. "It's alright," I found myself saying. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Cara, you're scared all the time, I can feel it. I just now put it together that you've been hallucinating about him, because of him, and maybe if I hadn't jumped to his defense at his trail, he'd be dead! I promised you, Cara, that he'd never bother you again, and it was the exact fucking _opposite_!"

I cringed, never hearing him cuss so openly before. This must be a tough subject for him. Who was I kidding? It was about me being tortured. Of course it was a touchy subject.

"Matt," I whispered, laying a hand on his face, trying to calm him. "Chill out. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Nothing is wrong. I'm here. I'm safe. I'm in your arms right now. Nothing can hurt me. Nothing is a threat."

Even as I spoke the words, I knew I was lying. But I had to say them. I had to make Matt relax. He had to understand that I trusted him.

"But, Cara," he sighed, "I defended him. It's my fault. It's _all_ my fault!"

He was really torn up about it. "Matt, I don't care that you defended him. He's your brother, you didn't know me well, and it makes sense. Even if you had been in love with me, I wouldn't care. Do you understand me?"

He couldn't answer. His eyes were trained on my face, his hands on it, too. "I love you," he sighed.

"I love you, too," I murmured, brushing back some of his hair. "And Matt, I think you're a tad deprived."

**OOO**

**Woo. So that took me forever to write. Sorry about that. Problems going on. Not to mention I'd already written this about three months ago and I couldn't find it. Lol. **

**Always,**

**Jamie**


	5. Addicted

_**Nightfall**_

_Chapter 5: Addicted_

**Addicted—Kelly Clarkson**

**Hey guys. You know I love you all. And I'm extremely sorry. See, I had a boyfriend this year (bad idea for a writer!) and I never had enough time to write. I want to fully apologize to everybody who's been waiting patiently. Or impatiently. Whatever.**

**Anyway, it's going to take me a while to get back into Cara's world. I've started a new fic about Renesmee (the Cullen's actual daughter) and it's called the Diary. So if you get annoyed with my slow updates, those will be much faster. **

**The absolute truth is, I get bored with my own stories after a while. I'm not bored with this one, but it isn't tugging at me like it used to. However, I'll try to finish it as quickly as possible so as not to leave you in suspense. **

**Enjoy the fifth installment in Nightfall!**

**OOO**

I had taken a leave today, deciding to stroll the streets of Volterra while Matt was away for the day. Aida was with me, but she was wearing a hoodie, beige gloves, jeans, and boots. Her face was concealed by the shadows of the hood, and her red eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.

"I feel ridiculous," she told me in a low tone as we passed a kid with ice-cream in his hands. I smiled, but he just blinked and kept walking.

I rolled my eyes at Aida's comment, though. "Well, you don't look it."

"Are you joking?" she demanded, raising a gloved hand to pull down her shades. "Look at me—I'm covered in fabric."

I looked at her. "So? It's winter."

"It's Italy," she stated blankly.

I ignored her, veering off the streets to a nearby store. Aida stopped, frowned at me, and then heaved a sigh before following me.

"_What_," she said to me, just outside the door, "are you doing?"

"Shopping."

"For what?"

"Clothes," I told her. "Clothes that will look inconspicuous. Jeez."

Her frown deepened. "For?"

"Ex-may on the question-ays," I growled at her. "We don't know who's hanging around here, got it? If you want me to help you, you're just going to have to trust me."

"Have I mentioned I have trust issues?"

"No."

She blinked. "Well, I do."

I drew in a deep breath as I opened the door. "Well, thanks for bringing that to my attention so early," I hissed sarcastically.

"Your own fault you got into this. You could've just declined."

"You knew I wouldn't."

Aida smiled. "Yeah. So?"

"So your point is moot."

She shrugged, in a severely annoying way. I thought of everything I was doing for her. I was risking my relationship with my boyfriend. I was risking my life, which I happened to enjoy. I was even risking the wellbeing of my families.

And she was shrugging. I felt sick.

"Okay, so what kinds of clothes look inconspicuous? So far, you've chosen pretty poorly."

I shot Aida a glare. She glanced at me, visibly recoiled, and whispered something under her breath. Since I was human, I didn't hear her. It didn't matter though.

I sighed, turning back to the line of stores. "You just don't think that's low-key because you're a vampire." I childishly hissed the last word. "If you lived as a human—you'd think differently."

"I would?"

"You would," I confirmed, striding over to a rack that held sundresses. I wanted one.

With a grin, I held up the international credit card Alice had given to me with my departure. "Use it wisely," she'd advised me with a grin. I now got what she meant.

"I want one of those," I told her, holding up a green floral print. "It's gorgeous, right?"

Even though I was looking at dark shades, I could tell Aida's expression was sour. "I want one too—oh, wait. I _sparkle_."

I grimaced at her, draping the garment over my arm. "That's why we're getting you lots of pantyhose, and a lot of jeans . . . I don't know if concealer will work."

"I've tried it. It doesn't."

Wow, she was just a big ray of sunshine today. "What's wrong with you?"

"I hate life. What else is new?"

"I meant," I clarified, "what happened between yesterday and today."

Her face was so stony I'd thought she'd died . . . or something. "Matt happened. Your precious little boyfriend happened."

Whoa. "I'm not claiming him. He's _your_ brother, FYI."

"I refuse to acknowledge such petty details," she said quickly. "But anyway, he and I had a row last night."

"A row? Are you British, now?"

"English is English, no matter what country you're from." She sighed and itched at her face. My guess was that she was trying to look human—she didn't want to appear too still. "Anyway, he told me to stay away from you. He didn't trust me all of the sudden."

I stopped picking through the garments. "What?"

"Do you realize how protective he is of you? Look, I know our brother went a little off his rocker, but—"

"He told you to stay away from me?"

"—just because he's crazy doesn't mean I'm going to do anything weird," she plowed on, ignoring me. "I'm not Lucas. If I was, that would be weird, because I'm not a guy."

I blinked. This conversation was getting a little out of hand. "Aida, hold on. What are you _talking_ about?"

"Yesterday, Matthias came up to me and said, 'I don't know what your doing, but I don't like it. Stay away from her.' And then he huffed and stalked off. Don't ask me about it, I don't know."

Matt would do something like that. I blinked again and pushed the dress back onto the rack. "I think we should go back before something else happens."

"Like what?"

"Like Matt realizing we're shopping for all the wrong reasons."

Aida frowned. "The Volturi think I'm out here to watch you, so you won't run off again. I don't think we're going to get many more chances than we already have, so I _suggest_ you take hold of them."

Strangely, I understood. With a nod and a smile, we continued our raid of Volterra.

**OOO**

"Where did you go?"

I froze, all my bags hanging on my arms. Matt stood to my left, glaring at me. I fleetingly thought of how ridiculous I felt, how ridiculous he was being. I gave him my best icy stare and said, "Out."

Something flashed in his eyes. "Out?" he repeated angrily. "Relationships can't be based on lies, Cara."

Lies? What the hell was up with him? "I'm not lying. I went out. Aida had to watch me. I didn't expect to be out for so long, but I'm back now. That's all that matters."

He snorted. "What matters is the fact you're keeping me out of everything."

"You said you were fine with it!" I accused, my voice rising.

"Well, I'm not!"

I fell silent. Aida wasn't helping me, she was ruining me. Fury boiled in my chest as I remembered her "suggesting" we continue shopping. It had been a mistake—I'd known that from the moment the words left her mouth. And yet, I'd listened.

"Sorry, Matt," I said. My voice didn't sound the least bit friendly. He recoiled slightly at my harsh tone. "You have to be okay with it."

He glowered at me. "You're taking her side."

"This isn't about sides!" I exclaimed, shocked. "You sound like a little kid who didn't get his toy at the Dollar Store. Well, sorry, but I don't have time to fucking babysit."

It was the worst thing I'd ever said to him, but I was spent. My stress levels were rising day by day, drowning me with their claws. I had to worry about how much Matt knew, how much Aida wanted, about my family, about Jaime. . .

My chest tightened. Fuck the world.

Aida and I had used our time today for plotting. We hadn't gotten very far, but we'd done something, and now I was wishing we hadn't.

And the worst part of it was, by trying to help Matt, I was making him hate every fiber of my being. Whenever we shared a bed, now, it was never for anything other than resting. He barely touched me anymore. The last time we'd kissed was weeks ago.

And now he was silent, his shoulders hunched in rage as his furious eyes glared daggers. His lips were white with rage, his hands clenched tightly, as if he were afraid of what they might do.

I grabbed my purse and a random bag of clothing, whirling away at the frightening sight before me. "I get it," I said quietly. "I'll sleep with Aida, tonight."

And he said nothing, and I couldn't be sure for once whether he was happy with my decision or not.

**OOO**

"What happened?" asked Aida as I stood outside her door with a livid expression. She gave me a once over and then her face went blank. "He hates you, doesn't he?"

I gave her a tight, unfriendly smile. "That would be putting it simply."

She grimaced, stepping aside to let me through. "Why is he overreacting about this?"

"I really don't think he is," I growled at her. "We love each other, Aida—we've made it clear in the past that we're supposed to share everything with each other. And you," I added, jabbing a strained finger in her direction, "are completely devastating our relationship."

"My gift sometimes backfires."

Blankly, I raised my gaze to her. "Please tell me that was a bad joke."

"No," she replied evenly, unblinking. "It wasn't. My gift isn't as flawless as your father's or Jane's. I . . . my gift works in mysterious ways."

"Explain."

"Well, since I've been trained on the side of evil," she began cheekily, nervously, "my gift has been manipulated. All I've ever been taught is how to help _sabotage_, so when I try to really help somebody . . . . Well, it backfires."

I stared at her in horror, my jaw falling open of its own accord. "What?!"

"I didn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't help me," she told me earnestly, rushing to my side. In her haste to explain, her words jumbled together, making me dizzy. "I was scared, Cara! I wanted my brother back, and my gift makes him stay away from me. He hates me. I thought if we all got together and . . . you know . . . then my relationship with him would get better."

My chest was getting more uncomfortable to breathe in. I glared at her, fully this time. "You're telling me you lied to me in order to help yourself?"

"I was afraid that you wouldn't help."

Looking at her, she reminded me of a little kid who was coming clean of cheating on a test. It was heartbreaking. And at that moment, I knew I would help her, eventually, because Matt was involved too. But right now, I needed to take matters into my own hands and help myself.

Before I could say a word, something on her buzzed. She glanced down, her face contorted in annoyance, and then back at me. "I'm sorry—it's my shift. Please, don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a few hours."

I remained silent as she left, my unmoving heart feeling oddly uncomfortable. I waited only five minutes before rushing back to Matt's room.

The moment I entered, I was wrapped into a hug, a crushing hug of desperate need. "Don't," he whispered against my neck, squeezing me tighter. "Don't ever leave me again."

"I didn't—"

"Those were some of the worst ten minutes of my life, Cara."

He pulled away, only to kiss me passionately, forgetting he was upset with me, forgetting he was livid with my secrecy. His hands tangled in my hair, pressed against the small of my back as we kissed, and mine flew under his shirt.

I needed his love. I needed it so much it hurt.

He pulled away, although his eyes were sparkling blue. "No," he rasped. "We can't. Not like . . . this."

His words came to a slow as I pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the ground. There was a strangled cry from him as my fingers danced across his chest, as we moved back towards the bed, only to collapse in a flurry of sheets and desire.

"Please," I whispered.

And he surrendered. Beautifully.

**OOO**

**I know it's a little short. Again, the updates for Nightfall are going to be very slow because of the story I'm working on right now, The Diary. **

**That one should be faster.**

**Jamie.**


End file.
